


Smiles and Silly Conversation

by TheGreatSporkWielder



Series: The Other Half's Luck [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, I apparently cannot write anything without it turning fluffy at the end, Just a bit of silliness, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatSporkWielder/pseuds/TheGreatSporkWielder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bruce, I have a very important question to ask you.”</p><p>Bruce and Darcy have the first of many "Who Would Win in a Fight?" conversations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smiles and Silly Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Story title taken from the song "When Did You Fall" by Chris Rice
> 
> Written for **coulbitches** over on Tumblr for their prompt "Star Trek vs Star Wars." This is probably NOT what you had in mind when you prompted this, dear. Sorry.
> 
> This takes place sometime between Chapters Three and Five of "Someday is Not a Day of the Week."

“Bruce.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Bruce, I have a _very_ important question to ask you.”

 

Bruce glanced up from his microscope to see Darcy leaning over the other side of his lab table, her blue eyes wide and serious. She normally didn't come to the lab during the day, other than on her lunch break, so he sat back and slid his glasses up into his hair. “I’m listening,” he said.

 

“Who would win in a fight: Han Solo or Captain Kirk?”

 

Bruce blinked, stunned. His brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at her. Darcy smiled encouragingly at him. “Feel free to think it over,” she said. “I want your honest answer.”

 

His mouth open and shut a few times as he tried to figure out how to answer her. “And _this_ is your terribly important question?” he asked finally. 

 

She nodded.

 

"And it couldn't wait until lunch tomorrow?"

 

She shook her head. “I’ve got a lot riding on this.”

 

“What, twenty bucks?”

 

She narrowed her eyes at his dry tone, then rolled them and grinned. “Fifty, if you want to get technical. I can’t afford to lose fifty bucks, Bruce. I _need_ you.”

 

He ignored the way his heart stuttered at those words and crossed his arms, considering her question. “Han Solo or Captain Kirk?” he asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

 

“Yup.”

 

“This hypothetical situation does, of course, ignore the fact that the two participants in question live in completely different points in the time stream,” Bruce said in his best lecturing voice. “What with Han living long, long ago, and Captain Kirk living in the twenty-third century.”

 

“Yeeess,” Darcy encouraged, sliding down onto a stool and propping her chin in her hands. “And?”

 

"It also assumes they live in the same universe."

 

"They do. For the purposes of the question."

 

“Well, then, _i_ _f_ they managed to get around the time issue—“

 

“Kirk slingshots around the sun again, like in the one with the whales,” Darcy said hastily, flapping an impatient hand at him.

 

Bruce raised a skeptical brow. “And _happens_ to end up in the proper year?”

 

“It worked for them in the movie.”

 

He sighed and pulled his glasses out of his hair, settling them back on his nose. “Alright.  Besides the fact that the odds of that happening, even working under the assumption that time travel is possible in the first place, are infinitesimal, once they’re in the proper year, Kirk would have to _find_ Han in a completely unfamiliar, unnamed, far-off galaxy _.”_

“They have a Han-tracker?”

 

“How would they know how to track him?” Bruce countered. “He’s not human, at least not an _Earth_ human; how would they know what to look for?”

 

Darcy thumped her head down against the lab table. “Oh, my _God,_ Bruce, just answer the fucking question.”

 

“You have a small fortune riding on this, Darcy,” he said, keeping his voice solemn, though his lips were twitching. “You told me you wanted my honest answer; I need to consider it from all angles.”

 

“Fucking genius scientists,” she muttered. Raising her head, she gave a frustrated huff and said, “Okay. Because he’s Captain fucking Kirk and has some of the best luck in the _cosmos,_ he manages to travel back to the proper time and stumbles into the right galaxy and then bumps into Han in a dive on some backwater planet. Han insults Kirk’s mom or the _Enterprise_ or something, and before you mention the language thing, just _assume_ they can understand each other. They start the space fisticuffs. Who wins?”

 

“That’s quite a few _very_ illogical and completely unsubstantiated assumptions.”

 

“Just _go with it.”_

“Fine.”

 

“ _Thank_ you.”

 

“Okay, then,” Bruce mused. “Kirk probably has more formal training in actual hand-to-hand combat.”

 

“So you’re voting for Captain Kirk?”

 

Bruce shook his head. “I’m not finished. Kirk has the training, but Han probably has more actual _experience,_ not to mention he’s more likely to fight dirty, being that he’s a man of less-than-sterling moral character.”

 

Darcy tilted her head. “So…Han?”

 

“ _However,”_ Bruce continued, “Kirk is very adaptable, and he wouldn’t necessarily be afraid to fight dirty if he sees his opponent doing so.”

 

“I must admit, I’m a little concerned by just how seriously you’re taking this question.”

 

He smiled at her, a bit mischievously. “You said it was important.”

 

“Not _this_ important.”

 

“ _And_ ,” Bruce said, getting back to his considering, “sometimes Kirk’s fights end with Spock just nerve-pinching the other guy.”

 

“The Other Guy? I don’t remember _that_ episode.”

 

“Very funny.”

 

“And besides, Spock’s not an option. He stayed behind on the ship, or he’s busy fighting Chewie or something.”  

 

“Of course, some of _Han’s_ fights probably ended with him shooting the other person in the face.”

 

“No guns. Just them. Skill against skill alone, as Fezzik would say.” 

 

“And now we’ve got the Dread Pirate Roberts in the mix, too?”

 

“Are you _trying_ to make me want to smack you?”

 

His smile widened. “I apologize for making light of your _desperately_ imperative query, Miss Lewis,” he said solemnly.

 

“You should be, Doctor Banner,” she replied with a haughty toss of her hair. “And you still haven’t given me your answer.”

 

He hummed thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, “Han.”

 

“Why Han?”

 

“Because Harrison Ford is cooler than William Shatner.”

 

“After all that nerdy deduction stuff, _that’s_ your reason?”

  
Bruce just shrugged and returned to his microscope, absently jotting notes down on a pad at his elbow with a half-gnawed pencil.

 

“Oh, well,” she said, smiling as she leaned across the table to kiss his cheek. “You still won my bet for me.”

 

“And now I can cross _that_ off my Bucket List,” he replied without looking up.

 

He felt her smile against his skin. “Be careful, Bruce,” she teased, pulling back far enough so he could see the twinkle in her eyes when he lifted his gaze to hers. “I thought scientists didn’t _have_ a sense of humor; they’re going to revoke your membership to the Serious Genius Scientist Club if word gets out.”

 

Warmth bloomed in his chest at the fondness in her smile, and he couldn’t stop an answering smile from spreading across his own face.

 

“Well, you know what a rebellious troublemaker I am,” he said dryly, quirking an eyebrow at her.

 

She laughed. “Oh, yes. You’re definitely one to watch out for. You and Tony.”

 

“We rebel geniuses have to stick together, you know,” he said.

 

“Do you have your own little secret rebel genius guild?”

 

“We meet every other Thursday afternoon.”

 

“You’ll let me hang out with you guys once in a while, won’t you?”

 

“You’re one of us already,” he said. “A founding member; we’ve been counting you as absent on the roll for weeks.”

 

She snorted. “I’m no genius.”

 

He tapped her affectionately on the nose with his pencil. “Not all genius is measured by IQ, Darcy.”

 

“And what, pray tell, Doctor, is _my_ genius?”

 

His smile softened from playful to sincere. “Well, for one, you’ve somehow gotten me to talk more to you in the last fifteen minutes than I have all day with anybody else. That takes more than a little intelligence and talent.”

 

Darcy’s smile turned a bit shy, and Bruce could swear he saw her cheeks turning pink.

 

“Now, shoo,” he said, waving her off. “Go get your winnings from whatever poor sap was foolish enough to bet against you. I have serious genius scientist things I need to do.”

 

“Don’t work too hard,” Darcy replied, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “I’m taking you out to dinner with my riches, since you were so helpful.”

 

“Are you?”

 

“Yup. And if you say no, I will cry and cry and I’ll tell Thor you were mean to me and he’ll come challenge you to a duel for distressing my delicate maidenly honor.”

 

“Heaven forbid I cause you distress.”

 

“I hoped you’d say that,” she said. “I’ll see you at seven.”

 

She swept out of the lab before he could reply.

 

 


End file.
